The Descent
Harry found himself with a greater sense of purpose over the following days, he practiced spells from his school books, made himself plenty of food and even found himself using a few of the household cleaning spells to keep the place clean. The Summer sun and air were refreshing after so long inside and he felt a sense of motivation and anticipation at the prospect of a way out of all of this, he just had to wait for the right time. It was difficult not to feel bored however, his days felt monotonous and restless, there was only so many times he could go through his school books, only so long he could spend reading the magical theory book. Another thing to make him anxious and restless was Tom warning him that Voldemort could and most likely already had been reading Harrys thoughts. Harry had been panicked at that, but Tom had mentioned that it could only happen when they made eye contact and that Harry should avoid making direct eye contact where possible, and that if Voldemort did read his mind he would just have to focus on something else, and hope it worked.
There had been one incident recently where Harry had fallen asleep outside, his dreams intercepted by images of death eaters sat around a table. Harry had been horrified to watch Nagini slither onto the table and hands not his own raise to stroke her, long pale hands. He had woken with a scream and a horrible headache that almost made him throw up. Not long after that Voldemort had shown up, taking Harry by surprise and the man had immediately grabbed Harrys face and stared into his eyes. Harry knew this was what Tom had warned him about, but thankfully visions of his dream were all that was floating around in his mind. When he felt his focus on those visions start to wane he began to think of all the boring cleaning he’d been doing, and Voldemort let go of him and backed away.
He had looked annoyed at him, as though Harry were looking into his mind on purpose. Voldemort had asked him some questions and after staring at him further in thought had then told Harry that occlumency should help stop the visions. Harry had muttered that it had been the most interesting thing to happen to him in days, and hadn’t bothered to ask what occlumency was, but he had managed to ask when Voldemort would be back just as he began to leave. Voldemort had ignored him and left. The following day a whole stack of school books for second years at Hogwarts had shown up, as well as a book on learning occlumency and a whole stack of parchment. Surprisingly Harry felt relieved at the arrival of the books, Tom had told him he couldn’t act until he knew Voldemorts movements a bit better so Harry set to studying to try and keep his spirits up and not dwelling on everything else. He wondered if Hogwarts had gone back yet, if even at that moment Ron and Hermione were in their classes, if Peeves was causing mischief, Oliver Wood coaching his team…
Harrys willpower didn’t last long though, soon he found the monotony of every day, the studying, the boredom, the uncertainty and anticipation, it all became too much and he simply stopped. He found he didn’t see much of a point in getting out of bed, not much of a point in eating. He would try and drag himself downstairs to lie in the garden, the only place he really felt some peace but even then his thoughts were plagued of Hogwarts and his friends. Wondering if they missed him, wondering if they were looking for him. He began to lose hope that they were even doing that. His anger at Voldemort grew even more, angry at the man for doing this to him, for killing his parents, for keeping him from his home and his family, he grew angry that he couldn’t even decide what he was doing with Harry, he was just KEEPING him here, like a sick pet. Harry spiralled further and further and even speaking to Tom Riddle, who Harry was becoming closer to, began to lose its appeal as nothing new ever happened, and they ran out of things to discuss. He wasn’t even sure he cared that Tom could supposedly get him out of this, he was tired of it all.
Harry was fast asleep one afternoon in bed, when he was woken by the feel of something heavy moving on top of him. He startled in his bed only to freeze when he realised it was Nagini slithering over him. “The little one, still in bed?” Harry felt a brief huff of indignation before surmising that if Nagini was here then that must mean…he turned his head and saw Voldemort standing leaning against the door way with his arms crossed.
“Having a lie in?” He said mockingly. Harry glared at the man but quickly began to slide out from under Nagini and climbed out of bed, ignoring her indignant hisses. He wished he’d stayed in bed though, he felt cold now and a bit weak. He could also see Voldemort eyeing him up and down, his eyes lingering on Harrys face and the now very exaggerated baggy fit of his pyjamas. “You haven’t been eating”. Harry thought he could hear concern in Voldemorts voice, but of course it was concern for his horcrux. Not for Harry. He let out a croak before clearing his throat and trying again.
“I have.” He said angrily, which was somewhat undermined by the raspy quality of his voice. Voldemort did not look convinced and glared at Harry.
“You look terrible. Get dressed, and come down stairs.” He said shortly before turning and leaving. Harry felt himself flushing, but he slowly gathered some clothes and headed out of the room to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror he did look terrible, he had to admit. He had dark circles under his eyes, his cheeks were slightly hollow and the flush on his cheeks contrasted with his pale skin gave him a sickly feverish look. He got dressed and went downstairs, finding Voldemort in the dining room with a plate of toast and eggs laid out at the place around the corner from where he was sat at the head of the table. Harry scowled as he walked in and stood at the opposite end of the table to Voldemort. “Sit.” Voldemort said, gesturing to the seat next to him. Harry stayed where he was. Voldemorts face twitched into a look of disgust, “I said-“
“I heard.” Harry interrupted, finding he had no patience for the man sat before him, he had nothing but bitter anger and hatred. Voldemort shook his head slightly and tutted.
“Manners Harry, we mustn’t forget them. Sit down and eat.” he said in a dangerously calm voice.
“I’m not hungry,” Harry replied equally calmly.
“I think that’s a lie Harry. You need to eat.” Voldemort waved his wand to send the plate and a glass of water down the table towards Harry.
“You mean you need your horcrux to eat, to stay healthy for your precious soul fragment” Harry spat, ignoring the food which admittedly smelt very good and made his stomach ache, but which Harry could only see as poison coming from the man before him. His anger was slowly rising, and with no food or drink inside of him he felt slightly weak, but he refused to show weakness just now. Voldemort glowered at him for a moment with a slight small smirk on his face.
“Yes.”
At those words, Harry lost his temper, he picked up the glass of water and launched it as hard as he could at Voldemorts head. Harry was gratified to see the mans eyes widen slightly but then he easily deflected the glass and its contents which only angered Harry more. He went to pick up the plate, but Voldemort had removed it from Harrys reach, clearly the man underestimated his rage, as Harry picked up a chair and tossed it Voldemorts way, who deflected it again. Harry went for another chair, but found them all gone and Voldemort stood in front of him at the end of the table looking unimpressed and bored. It was that look which sent Harry over the edge and he lunged forwards, forgetting magic and wands he just wanted to hurt Voldemort, punch him and scratch him anywhere he could get a hold of. His fingers didn’t even reach Voldemorts robes before Harry was thrown harshly backwards into the wall. He crumpled to the floor, breathing heavily, sobs heaving their way out of his mouth and tears streaming down his face as he began to pick himself up off the ground. He leant against the wall behind him for support as he faced the Dark Lord before him, still standing exactly where he’d been. Unfazed.
Harry yelled at him, impossibly anger at the mans lack of reaction, at his weakness and inability to even touch him. His yell became words in between sobs. “I’M NOT YOUR HORCRUX I’M A BOY! I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE, I WANT- WHAT DO YOU EVEN WANT FROM ME!?” Harry heaved a heavy sob, uncaring what Voldemort thought of him at this point. “YOU CAN’T JUST KEEP ME HERE LIKE-LIKE-LIKE A PET. I’D RATHER DIE THAN STAY HERE, HIDDEN FOREVER!” Harry took a few deep, shuddering breaths and found while he was calming he was spurred on by Voldemorts silence and lack of action. “What’s even going on out there? What’s happened to my friends? to Hogwarts? What are you going to DO with me!?” Harry couldn’t continue after that, he sunk to the floor and left the odd sob escape as he tried to breathe deeply and stop the tears falling down his face. All the while, Voldemort just watched him, his head tilting slightly, an unreadable expression on his face. Harry found himself surprised when the man walked forwards and came to kneel in front of him. One hand casually holding his wand, the other resting upon his bent knee. Harry raises his eyes to just above Voldemorts shoulder and stared determinedly in that direction as the man considered him.
“You are not just a horcrux,” Voldemort finally began to say with a somewhat gentler tone than he had been using. “But you ARE my horcrux, and I cannot just leave you to roam free or go home or wander back to Dumbledore…ever.” Harry felt a slight hitch in his breath startle his diaphragm at that, but he refused to move his eyes or say anything. “Clearly, some adjustments need to be made, as evidently you are incapable of being left alone for long stretches of time.” He says with a slight edge and Harry could feel his already flustered face flushing deeper. “And clearly my plans for you are some of those adjustments as simply killing you is no longer an option.” Voldemort said now with slight exasperation. He stood up and with a wave of his wand, which caused Harry to flinch, Voldemort returned order to the room and sat in the nearest chair at the table. He gestured to the chair next to him again, and Harry slowly stood, exhausted and deciding he had nothing left to fight with anymore, and made his way to sit in the chair.
Voldemort looked deep in thought, and eventually began speaking again, “I have been rehabilitating my death eaters, Azkaban is not a kind place and many of them are in no fit state to serve me yet. We have begun to infiltrate the ministry however, and while I did suspect Dumbledore had been alerted to my return,” here he shot a slight glare at Harry, “I have now had it confirmed that he has been,”
“By Snape?” Harry asked, surprised that Voldemort was being so open with him, but beginning to calm at the prospect of hearing what was happening in the outside world.
“Yes. Severus keeps me informed of Dumbledores plans,” Voldemort confirmed.
“He’s a spy?” Harry said angrily, feeling a renewed anger at his old potions professor. Voldemort looked at him.
“Yes, he passes information on Dumbledore to me and in return passes a controlled amount of information from myself and my death eaters onto Dumbledore to maintain a cover. While this is a slight set back, the ministry are trying to deny my return and denouncing Dumbledore to the public, dragging his name through the mud to try and break the publics faith in him. My death eaters are doing their best to support this.” Voldemort had a slight smile playing around his mouth, which disappeared slightly when he spoke again “however with your disappearance, it won’t be long before they begin to doubt and come to accept the truth.”
Harry was amazed at the amount Voldemort was sharing with him, the trust he was showing, or at least the trust that Harry wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “Why are your Death Eaters infiltrating the ministry?” Harry asked, his desire to know what was going on out there soaking up his rage like a sponge for the moment.
“In order to manoeuvre themselves into positions of power and then we shall take it over from the inside.” Voldemort stated simply, looking at Harry who felt a slight shiver go down his back. Voldemort running the wizarding world did not sound like a good thing. Voldemort flicked his hand and the plate of food and the glass of water reappeared in front of Harry, who looked down and frowned at it. The dark lord sighed, briefly leaning his head on his thumb and forefinger as he leant on the arm of the chair before he stood and left the room. “Eat, Harry. You’ll feel better.” He said shortly as he left, and Harry was alone.
“Loud little one.”
Or so he had thought, as he watched Nagini slither past the doorway and further down the hall. Once he was sure Voldemort was gone, Harry looked down at his food again, picked up his toast and began to eat. He was surprised how well that had gone to be honest, and he was surprised how hungry he was as he began to devour the food and drink the glass of water. He found once there was food and water inside of him everything began to feel significantly better. He was still angry with Voldemort, obviously, and he still hated him, but he was glad that he’d learned something that evening. He could pass on this information to Dumbledore…if he ever got back home.